


Kidnapping

by wowitsanaltaccount



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [3]
Category: A Heist With Markiplier (Web Series), Markiplier TV (Web Series), Video Blogging RPF, Who Killed Markiplier? (Web Series)
Genre: Bad Things Happen Bingo, Dark has a sword cane, Fight Scenes, Hurt Yancy, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Kidnapping, M/M, Magnum is everyone's dad, Minor Electrocution, Torture, Yancy and Illinois are boyfriends because I said so, no beta we die like wil every other day basically, these tags are a mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 22:01:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29089479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wowitsanaltaccount/pseuds/wowitsanaltaccount
Summary: A hand snaked into his hair, grabbing at it and roughly pulling his head up. He looked into the eyes of the man who must be the leader of this operation. “Hello there…” Boss paused as if waiting for Yancy to provide a name. Stubbornly, he said nothing. “Well then. I was hoping you could provide us with some information.” He paused again, taking in Yancy’s defensive, closed-off expression. “If you cooperate no harm will come to you.”There was a long pause again as Yancy waited to see If Boss would continue talking. The henchmen behind him fidgeted nervously. Once it became clear that Boss was done, he broke the silence. With defiant fire in his eyes, he simply said, “I’m not giving youse dipshits anything.”
Relationships: Illinois/Yancy (A Heist with Markiplier)
Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2073399
Comments: 3
Kudos: 20





	Kidnapping

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry this took so long. I somehow ended up in the Dream SMP fandom and got very distracted. I would die for the block men.

The weather had been unusually nice lately and Yancy was taking full advantage of it. He has always loved yard time back at Happy Trails, and Ego Inc. had a massive back garden. He had recently watched the musical version of Bonnie and Clyde with Illinois and he whistled the tune to Raise a Little Hell as he walked. Getting lost in the music he half-walked half-danced along the path outside the mansion, following the curve towards the back of the property. He walked by the tree line that marked the edge of the property, (not that it stopped King or the Jims from exploring,) leaves crunching underfoot. 

With all the noise he was creating, he took no notice of the leaves crunching behind him until it was too late. A man appeared in his vision and threw a solid punch, knocking Yancy into a second man off to the side who grabbed him and pushed him to the ground. Were they toying with him? He leaped up with a growl, holding his fists at the ready. If they wanted a fight they’d get one, he had plenty of petty prison yard fight experience. The first man lunged and Yancy met him with equal ferocity, they traded blows back and forth. It became a dance, blocking, dodging, throwing punches. He fell easily into the steady rhythm, into the familiarity of adrenaline, sweat, and sharp bursts of pain. 

In his haste to jump into the action, he’d forgotten about the other assailant. While he was busy defending, the second man crept up behind him, unheard through the pounding adrenaline in his ears. Before he knew what was happening, something connected with the small of his back, and his world filled with pain. His vision went white, every muscle in his body seized, he’s not even sure if he screamed. 

The weapon was pulled away and he collapsed to the hard ground, unable to catch himself. Through the pain, he manages to hear a hushed conversation between the two men. “Are you sure he’s the right one?”

The second man replied in an exhausted tone. “I think so, man. He’s got the slicked-back hair and all that. But these guys all look the same to me unless they’re a freaky mutant or something.”

A pair of feet encased in steel-toed boots appear next to his face. “Aw shit, he’s still awake man.” Before he could hear the reply though, one of the boots connected with his temple, and his world faded to black.

\---

Coming to consciousness felt like trying to swim through honey, and Yancy was currently drowning. As he slowly became aware of the world around him he felt a throbbing pain in his skull. Every muscle in his body ached, but his back specifically felt like it had a million needles all stabbing the same place. 

As the world became more clear he heard voices coming from behind him. “-an’t believe you brought the wrong one! I gave you clear instructions and you do this? I should fire you right now.”

That’s right, he had been kidnapped. Fuck. “We’re really sorry boss. They all have the same face, it gets confusing!”

What? Did they want somebody else? “I don’t care how confused you got, I asked for Bim Trimmer and you brought me the wrong person!” Oh, that must be the boss, he was the first one to speak earlier. Wait, shit. Did they want Bim?

A third voice interrupted before Henchman One could say anything else. “Hate to break up the argument Boss, but he’s awake.” Shit, he was hoping to learn more.

A hand snaked into his hair, grabbing at it and roughly pulling his head up. He looked into the eyes of the man who must be the leader of this operation. “Hello there…” Boss paused as if waiting for Yancy to provide a name. Stubbornly, he said nothing. “Well then. I was hoping you could provide us with some information.” He paused again, taking in Yancy’s defensive, closed-off expression. “If you cooperate no harm will come to you.”

There was a long pause again as Yancy waited to see If Boss would continue talking. The henchmen behind him fidgeted nervously. Once it became clear that Boss was done, he broke the silence. With defiant fire in his eyes, he simply said, “I’m not giving youse dipshits anything.”

Boss laughed and one of the henchmen stepped forward. Suddenly, a gun was pointed at his head. Terror flowed like ice through his veins, freezing Yancy in place. He knew that it was tough for figments to die, and he was probably popular enough to come back but what if he wasn’t? Or what if it took months or years? He may be one of the more popular ones but he wasn’t at the same level as Wilford or Dark. Once Dark took three months to come back, Wilford was devastated in his more sane moments. Oh no. What would happen to Illy and Mag if it took him that long to come back? He couldn’t hurt them like that.

Yancy realized he had gotten lost in his head and missed most of the conversation between Boss and the henchman. He tuned back into Boss speaking. “-se him still. Just because he doesn’t want to talk now doesn’t mean we can’t convince him in other ways. Lower the gun.”

The gun was removed and the terror left Yancy, he slumped in his binds. Boss and his henchmen (Yancy decided he was going to call henchman one Trigger Happy and henchman two Silent,) left the room, the door shutting behind them with a bang. Once the door locked Yancy dropped his mask, now he was sure they had all left. His head pounded along with the fast beating of his heart. His entire body ached and all he wanted was to snuggle up with Illinois and fall asleep to the quiet background noise of whatever musical they decided to put on.

Illinois would know what to do in this situation, so would Magnum. But Yancy wasn’t cut out for all this adventure and mortal peril shit. It all terrified him. He was a homebody, two steps away from being a hermit. He just wanted to go home. 

Shifting his focus, he looked around the room. What would Illinois do if he were in this situation? Yancy shifted in the chair he was tied to, testing how tight the ropes around his torso were. Behind his back, he strained his wrists against the handcuffs. His feet made shuffling noises as he tested the ropes tying his ankles down. Everything was tied too tight. He might be able to get a hand loose but he’d have to break his thumb and he didn’t want to resort to that yet. 

Alright, no escaping yet. Maybe he could keep them distracted long enough for the rescue team to come. He knew that they’d never abandon him, as much as Dark liked to deny it and call them his “assets” they really were a big family. He trusted that the others would find him, Illy and Mag especially would never give up looking.

Content in the knowledge that he had somewhat of a plan, the pain and exhaustion finally took the forefront. His head pounded worse than before and being immobile was not helping his sore muscles. Something in his brain that sounded a lot like Iplier said sleeping with a head wound was bad, but his body had other ideas as he fell into a fitful doze.

\---

The door behind him slammed open, startling Yancy awake. “Time to get up, sunshine! I have some questions for you.” Boss stalked across the room to stand in front of Yancy, grabbing a handful of his hair and yanking it to force Yancy’s head up. Not allowing himself to wince, Yancy maintained direct eye contact. 

“What makes youse think I’ll give answers?” Yancy smirked, trying his best to be confident and unafraid. A harsh backhand met his cheek, causing his head to snap to the side and his vision to white out momentarily. Alright, these guys weren’t fucking around. Slowly, Yancy drew his head back up to look at Boss, and spit. Surprisingly, even to Yancy, he managed to catch Boss’ cheek. Everything was silent for a moment, slowly, Boss wiped off his face, a murderous look growing in his eyes. 

“You insolent little-” He exclaimed, fire in his expression. Instead of continuing his verbal outburst, he began to talk with his fists. A punch hit Yancy in the gut, knocking all of the air out of him. Before he could recover, another landed on his cheek, causing his teeth to clack together and scrape the sides of his mouth. The beating continued for what seemed like ages, but in reality, it was only a few minutes.

Finally, Boss backed away, breathing heavily and massaging his sore knuckles. Yancy leaned as far forward as he could, spitting again. This time though, just a glob of blood and saliva at Boss’ feet. “I wasn’t planning on that, but maybe it’ll make your lips a bit more loose.” He made eye contact with the men behind Yancy and gestured with his hands. After a pause, he nodded, a satisfied look on his face. “Now, tell me everything you know about Bim Trimmer.”

Yancy bared his bloodied teeth in a mockery of a grin, “I ain’t tellin’ you shit.”

Boss sighed, “I was hoping you’d be more amicable than that. Disappointing. But oh well, I was prepared for this.” He looked at the men behind Yancy again and gave a go-ahead gesture.

Before Yancy could figure out what the hell was happening, a pair of hands yanked his head back and stuffed a cloth into his mouth. His chair tipped onto its hind legs and he was greeted with a hose over his head? Before he could question what was going on, the faucet behind him creaked. The cold hit him first, shocking him and drawing a gasp from his lips. He thrashes in his restraints, body fighting to escape, to breathe. His feet kicked in the air, searching for the floor, his wrists jerked from where they were tied behind him, he tried to surge forward and get away from the neverending stream of water. He needed to get away.

Finally. Finally, the water stopped, and the rag was removed. His chair was dropped back to the floor and he heaved forward, coughing and gasping for air. His lungs burned, desperate for oxygen that he couldn’t get around the coughing. He shuddered, droplets of water sliding down his nose and dripping from his hair. 

When he finally managed to get his breathing mostly under control, he was managing small wheezing gasps, Boss stepped up again. “Now, how was that? Think you’re ready to tell us something?” His voice was mockingly sweet, Yancy loathed him with his entire being. 

Still leaning forward, Yancy managed to gasp out a reply, “Fuck you.”

Yancy was more prepared this time, as the goons yanked his chair back and stuffed the rag into his mouth he held his breath. He didn’t know how long he could go, but he would outlast them. He had to.

The water poured over his face and despite his best efforts not to, he flinched at the cold. He managed to hold his breath better this time though, but by the time they were done, he was still left gasping and coughing desperately. Boss asked him again, and again he denied an answer. The torture seemed to blur together after a while, he wasn’t able to hold his breath as long, he ended up breathing in the water more and more. He didn’t know if hours had passed or just a few minutes. Boss asked him a question, he doesn’t remember what it is, or why he’s saying no. The water pours over him again and if he could breathe he’d be screaming. 

The creak of the faucet sounds behind him as his chair crashes onto its front legs again. The soaked rag is removed and his shivering body lunged as far forward as he could go to spit as much water as he could onto the equally soaked floor. He gasped desperately, trying to draw air into his lungs that surely had at least some water in them. Distantly he realized he’d be lucky to get out of this without pneumonia later on. Yancy wasn’t sure if he was shivering from the cold or from the amount of pain he was in. His lungs ached fiercely as he tried to get even a little bit of air, but no matter how much he gasped they continued to hurt. The ache in his lungs caused him to begin to cough, desperate to get air. He was coughing so hard the entire chair he was in shook, and he almost missed the poof of pink in the corner as the shadows in the room seemed to deepen.

A surprised shout from Boss caused him to look up, only to be met with three new people in the room. Dark had his cane in one hand, sword half unsheathed and a look of fury on his usually emotionless face. Wilford had a gun to Boss’ head and a characteristic grin on his face, only slightly more feral than usual. And the third figure would’ve taken Yancy’s breath away if he had any.

Illinois was running towards him, pocket knife in hand and terrified look on his face. He crashed to his knees in front of Yancy and immediately began cutting away at the ropes holding Yancy in place. “Oh my god, Yancy, what did they do to you?” Illy was never very good at emotions but at this moment his voice was filled with raw horror as he took in Yancy’s abused form. 

With the ropes severed, Yancy crashed into his lover’s arms. Head tucked into Illinois’ chest he managed to wheeze out a small, “You came.” As Illinois pressed small kisses into his soaked hair.

“Of course we did darling, I’d never leave you.” Illinois cradled him closer, if that was possible, as a gunshot rang out, echoing in the small concrete room. “Just rest Songbird, we’ll get you home. Mag’s waiting so anxiously, it took a lot to convince him not to come with. And Iplier was furious when we told him to stay back too.” Illy giggled weakly, pressing another kiss into Yancy’s soaked hair.

Dark silently crouched by their small huddle, “Wil’s got a portal up, do you think he’s ready to move?” 

Illinois looked up, briefly taking in the three bodies scattered through the room before replying. “Is Wilford’s portal really the best way back home?” He asked. They all knew that Wilford’s magic was slightly unstable, even at the best of times.

Dark replied curtly, “It’s safer than my void.”    
  
Illinois shuddered, before booking down to Yancy to ask, “what do you think, babe? Ready to go home?”

Yancy nodded as fast as he could manage and Illy chuckled to himself before scooping Yancy up easily to carry him to the portal. Wilford wolf-whistled and Yancy blushed, even though he knew he was probably too weak to walk right now.

They stopped next to the swirling portal and Wil smiled down at Yancy, “Good to see you again, old sport.” Looking to Illinois, he said, “Go on through, it’ll lead to the medbay. Good luck with Iplier!” He called as Illinois stepped through. 

Miraculously, Illinois managed to stay on his feet as they made it out the other side of the cotton-candy scented portal. Disoriented, Yancy blinked a few times as Illinois gently deposited him on a bed. As soon as he was set down, he was greeted with a teary-eyed Magnum. “Oh no, matey, what happened to ye?” He asked gently.

Hating how his breath was still weak, he managed a soft reply of, “Oh y’know. Thought I’d try having an adventure since Illy seems to like them so much.” He paused with a coughing fit. “I honestly don’t know what he sees in them though.”

Magnum gave a watery chuckle in response, before being pushed out of the way by Dr. Iplier and Plus. Yancy sighed internally, dreading the exam to come. He hated the medbay.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed that! Comments and kudos fuel me, so please feel free to claim a bingo square down below, the card is the first work in this series. 
> 
> On a side note would y'all be interested in me adding the Dream SMP to the fandom list for this? I joined the fandom a while ago and I've been thinking about writing some stuff for it, so why not just add to my BTHB? Let me know! <3


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